


We've Been Through This Before

by prompt_fills



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Creepy, Gen, Horror, Mystery, Shippy Gen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-14 19:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/pseuds/prompt_fills
Summary: Kevin always feels uneasy around Kimi, he just never realizes why.





	We've Been Through This Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Born In Captivity- Ineligible to Release (Jashasedai)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jashasedai/gifts).



> My dear giftee, I hope you enjoy your angst. *cackles madly*

Kevin peels his eyes open into complete darkness. For a few confusing moments he isn’t sure if he’s awake or not. It’s only when he tries to move and a sharp, binding pain sears through his whole body, that he knows for sure that this isn’t a dream.

He sits up with a grunt, bracing himself, palms pressing against the rough, uneven surface of a wall. A damp bed sheet falls from his face. Kevin hastily gets himself uncovered completely. The stench is almost unbearable.

He feels like he’s been asleep for days. He rubs at his eyes and waits until they adjust to the darkness. A faint outline of a boarded-up window. On the opposite side, a doorway with no visible door.

There doesn’t seem to be anything else in the room. Kevin carefully shuffles towards the door, tapping the floor with the tip of his foot first, making sure he’s not about to take a tumble down, only then shifting his weight and moving forward, painstakingly slowly.

He approaches the exit. His foot finds a step there. Then another and another until the staircase takes him into another room. The air isn’t so stuffy up there but when he accidentally kicks into a stray wooden box, a cloud of dust spreads and makes him sneeze.

He freezes, listening to the echo if. Nothing moves in the darkness.

Kevin rubs the tip of his nose, trying to will away another sneeze. His body is in pain and his head is all woozy. He doesn’t remember much. He was angry. He went for a run to get rid of all that pent up energy. He felt like someone was following him and – not in the mood to deal with the journalists – he sped up and chose the road leading to a forest park. And then, nothing. Just the basement. Someone talking. Male voice. Clinking of bottles. Whiskey, perhaps. It smelled strong.

Kevin bends down but it’s too dark to read whatever it says on the side of the box.

A threadbare curtain is covering a window. He crosses the room, floorboards creaking, and tears the curtain down.

Now he can see the room a little clearer. Everything is hiding behind long shadows. Near the staircase he climbed up is a human baby.

Kevin moves in a heartbeat, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything but the tiny little arms that are reaching up, up towards anyone who is there to pick up the tiny body and cradle it in their arms.

Kevin touches the arm and stops short.

The arm is cold and it doesn’t move under his fingers. No trace of a pulse. Kevin kneels down and then, oh. It’s not a body, it’s a doll. Dressed up in a frilly gown, complete with a little tiara. The doll is missing a chunk of her face and Kevin shudders when he notices the grimace that’s left of her painted smile.

“You gave me a fucking scare,” Kevin mutters.

There are more shadows. More boxes, scattered cork plugs and scraps of crumples paper everywhere on the floor. Kevin forces his legs to keep moving past it all as he navigates his way into a connecting room. Living room, quite likely. There is a fireplace – no wood, no fire. An empty bird cage – a little dented on one side. A pile of books with their spines broken and pages torn out.

Kevin just nearly avoids stepping onto one of the corks and his leg convulses in pain at the unfortunate twist he makes. He carefully lowers himself to the nearest wooden boxes to put the weight off his leg and catch a breath.

One of the boxes is opened and Kevin takes out one bottle, curious. The liquid inside looks thick. It’s dark and doesn’t splash when Kevin gives the bottle a twirl. He uncorks the bottle and nearly chokes when the coppery whiff hits him. It’s the same sickeningly sweet smell that Kevin already recognized on the bed sheet that had covered him in the basement.

There is a thud from upstairs, then someone curses profoundly and the floorboards creak a little while later, directly above Kevin’s head. As someone walks above him, the dust falls down from the boards in the ceiling. Kevin feels it tickling his nose.

He’s desperately trying not to sneeze. He scrambles to his feet but his heart is beating madly in his chest and his hands are shaking so badly that the bottle slips from his fingers, crashing against the floor and leaving a dark smear where its contents spill.

The movement from above pauses, then there is another curse and the steps come approaching rapidly, followed by a dancing cone of light that flickers to life from someone’s flashlight.

There is nowhere to hide and Kevin can’t move a muscle anyway, frozen to the spot and frightened to death.

A figure appears and it’s mere seconds before he’s discovered. He raises his arm to shield his eyes from the worst of the glaring light. After all the darkness, it’s too bright and his eyes are watering from the sting of it.  
A moment pauses and then the light is pointing upwards and Kevin can see the specks of dust swirling in the air. Without a word, the figure approaches and the closer it gets, the more familiar it looks.

“Oh Kimi,” Kevin breathes out when he recognizes the man standing above him for sure.

If he weren’t so exhausted and if his heart wasn’t trying to jump out of his chest, he would notice the way Kimi pauses. It’s just the smallest thing, a little hesitation before Kimi kneels down to Kevin and helps him get off the floor, but it would be enough to give Kevin the goose bumps.

Kevin is too busy squeezing his eyes shut against the glare of the light and hissing against the pain he still feels. It hurts everywhere, it’s like his blood spreads the pain so that every little cell of his body feels the burn.

“What are you doing up here?” Kimi hisses at him.

Kevin doesn’t hear the question for what it is. “I don’t remember,” he says. “I just went for a run. Listen, we need to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Kimi croaks. “Let’s get you settled.”

Kimi hauls him up and keeps him steady by an arm around Kevin’s waist. It feels natural to throw his arm around Kimi’s shoulders and lean to his side. Like they’ve done this before.

They take a few stumbling steps to the door and a jolt goes through Kevin when the cone of light illuminates the doll. He could have sworn its creepy beady eyes were closed before, not staring – unseeing – somewhere into the darkness of the corner. He shudders and tries to hurry past it. In the darkness behind their back, something is moving audibly, something sharp scraping against wood. Rats, maybe.

“Bats,” Kimi offers without prompting.

It’s like Kevin almost knew that. He frowns and stops short. He turns to ask Kimi but then something else occurs to him. “This isn’t the way out,” he says. It’s the way back to the basement.

Kimi lets go of him. “Ah.”

There is a tiny speck of dried blood on Kimi’s cheek. Kevin stares at it for long enough that Kimi notices. He rubs his thumb against the spot Kevin is staring at, then flicks the dirt away from his thumb with his index finger.

Kevin’s throat tightens. “Where did you get a flashlight?”

Kimi only smiles in answer and there is something in his eyes. Something cold and ageless. Why on Earth is it so familiar, Kevin can’t puzzle it out. “What are you going to do to me?”

Kimi raises an eyebrow. “Nothing.”

Kevin doesn’t believe that for a second. “I can smell your bullshit from here.”

“I already did all I wanted.” There is not a grain of warmth in Kimi’s smile.

Kevin can’t find his voice. He can only watch, helpless, as Kimi’s smile grows wider.

“Oh Kevin, you don’t know anything.”

Kevin thinks back to the bottles that were decisively not whiskey. To the bed sheet that was covering him. To the way Kimi looks exactly the same as he did when Kevin first met him, ages ago.

“Don’t try to think too hard,” Kimi says, amused. “You’re going to forget it all again.”

Alarmed, Kevin tries to get away from him. Kimi has dropped all the pretences of trying to help him and is just standing there, watching Kevin struggle.

“I’ll remember it all this time,” Kevin snarls.

The look Kimi gives him is one Kevin has often seen during the racing weekends but even if it’s familiar, Kevin can’t decipher it. Kimi mumbles, “You shouldn’t have woken up at all. I must be losing my touch.”

“You won’t get away with it. I’ll remember it all. Or someone will notice it. You’ll take too much and look too young and people will know.” Kevin’s words are an empty threat and they both know it.

“You’re wasting my time,” Kimi sighs. “When did you get so feisty? This used to be so easy. I’m always careful.”

Kevin takes another step back and collides with a wall. There is another one of those boxes and Kevin presses his palm into it, feels the rough wooden surface under his fingers. Kevin latches on to it and holds on for his dear life, even as Kimi leaps at him and yanks him off the floor. Something crashes, someone shrieks and the world goes dark.

Kevin wakes up in his hotel room, his head pounding with a terrible headache. He must have outdone himself last night at the afterparty because he can’t remember the events of last night at all. He yawns, stretches and scratches the nape of his neck.

He hisses softly as a jolt of pain runs through his hand. With a frown, he brings the palm up for an inspection. In the reddened flash, a small piece of splinter is embedded.

Kevin has no idea how it got there.

It feels important to remember.

Kevin grabs his tweezers and pulls the splinter out. Blood starts to well there and before Kevin can wipe it away, a single drop falls to the ground, seeping into the carpet. It tickles something vague in his memory.

Something about bats and whiskey.

Kevin shakes his head. He definitely needs to tone down the partying, he’s got a race in a few days and it won’t do him any good to be this tired.

No time like present, he thinks, grabbing his jogging gear.


End file.
